Page 16 of The Last Chance
If men were puzzles, he was the most complex.
Joanna observed herself in the looking glass, imagining a suit of armour beneath her deep blue dress. Dealing with Mr Chance would be an uphill battle. She would need her wits to keep up with him. Nothing mattered but finding the killer and saving them both from a trip to the gallows.
She went in search of the intrepid gentleman.
Despite it being two o’clock in the afternoon, a calm silence enveloped the house. Mr Chance wasn’t in the dining room breaking his fast. He wasn’t taking his frustration out on a punching bag in the basement; the door was locked. She followed the teasing scent of his shaving soap—a classic bergamot fragrance with dominant woody accents.
Snapping her spine straight, she knocked on the study door.
Seconds passed before he called, “Enter.”
Nothing quite prepared a lady for seeing Mr Chance workingat his desk. Though his chair was throne-like, he filled it with ease. He sat writing in a large notebook, his shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows to reveal powerful forearms. The well-defined muscles were a testament to his physical strength. The thick veins pulsing beneath his soft skin proved an attractive contradiction. A lady could enter a room blindfolded and easily pick him as the most virile male.
Then he looked at her, a glance through hard eyes. “I trust you slept well,” he said, returning to his notebook.
“Reasonably well, all things considered.” Breaking down his barriers would be more challenging than she thought. How did one destroy a shield of steel? Perhaps his was forged from magical metal because there was no doubt he was a force unto his own. “Have you been up long?”
“I never sleep past noon. Visit Baptiste in the kitchen. Tell him what you want to eat, and he’ll serve you in the dining room.”
She’d spent less than a minute in his company, and he was already ushering her out. “Your cook is French?”
He dipped his pen into the inkwell. “Baptiste doesn’t live on the premises. If you require a late supper, you must tell him in advance. If you need extra bedding, speak to his wife, Eloise.” Mr Chance glanced at the mantel clock. “She’s left early today. Leave a note in the kitchen if you require anything, and she will attend to it tomorrow.”
“I wouldn’t want to put her to any trouble.” Heavens. She could cut the atmosphere with a knife. “I’m used to fending for myself.”
“I pay Eloise to do a job. It’s no trouble.”
Although her stomach rumbled with hunger, she approached the desk and sat in the chair opposite him. “If you have spare paper and a pen, I’ll write to Miss Stowe and Miss Moorland and invite them here today.”
“Not today.” He looked like he’d rather poke pins in his eyesthan entertain her friends. “It can wait until tomorrow. I want to visit the pawnbroker’s. I need to know how Howard came by my father’s watch.”
What happened to working together?
“I see no reason why we can’t achieve both tasks. You heard what the magistrate said. We have a week to find the murderer before his constables build a case against us.”
The magistrate, Mr Harriott, demanded they remain in town. They were governed by a strict curfew, forbidden to enter The Burnished Jade, and warned to remain indoors after eight o’clock at night.
Mr Chance turned the notebook to face her. “I’ve spent two hours searching your ledger and recording what I know about the ladies who attend your club. Did you know Howard owed Miss Fitzpatrick’s brother a thousand pounds?”
“No.” Joanna sat forward and studied Mr Chance’s notes. Such elegant handwriting was surprising for a man with large hands and a stern disposition. “Mr Fitzpatrick only permits his sister to attend my club when he’s gambling here.”
“As he was last night,” Mr Chance confirmed, sounding suspicious. “Might he have entered your premises under the guise of collecting his sister?”
Joanna barely knew the fellow and there was a mass exodus at the end of the evening. “Mr Fitzpatrick usually waits in his carriage. He disapproved of me inviting men to join the merriment and permitted his sister to come because he’s desperate to have her off his hands.”
“Then I will add the Fitzpatricks to our list of suspects.”
Guilt surfaced. While he’d been studying her ledger, she had slept late. “If I’d known you were working on the case, I would have joined you earlier.”
What must he think of her?
The worduselesssprang to mind.
“You were exhausted, and I can function with little sleep.”
He could have berated her but showed compassion instead. He might have insisted he was better equipped to deal with the problem but had used the phraseour listto signify they were a team.
“I shall strive to make an early start tomorrow.” To prove herself a worthy partner, she would rise at dawn. “I can write to Miss Stowe and Miss Moorland and have them call at six o’clock. That would give us time to visit the pawnbroker’s.”
